Ancient Ropes
by Icy Essence
Summary: What happens when Sabrina Spellman teaches Defence against the dark arts at Hogwarts?We all know that former teachers haven't been able to occupy that position for more than a year.Is there a deeper motive of Dumbledore in this "international" choice?
1. Trapped

**ok my first fanfic people...plz review and let me kno how i did...this ones a mere introduction but the story will get better after (hopefully!)...ALL FLAMES APPRECIATED (well of course nice reviews are always preferred) i want an honest opinion ok? now thanks to my beta, this chapter sounds better than when i first wrote it!..here goes..**

_Disclaimer: It belongs to either J.K. Rowling or Archiecomics...the unseen and unheard of characters are mine though....hehe i own something at least!_

**Chapter 1**  
  
The evening drew to a close. The room in number 4, Privet Drive grew steadily darker. Harry Potter lay on his bed oblivious to the fact that it was pitch dark. He made no attempt to turn on the light, or even to change and get into bed. He just lay there thinking.  
  
A soft rustle at his window interrupted his thoughts as Hedwig flew in carrying Lupin's reply. When Hedwig perched herself on top of her cage, Harry got up and took the reply from her. She quickly gulped down some water and then took off again into the night.  
  
Harry unfolded the parchment. Lupin's neat handwriting told him that the situation was under control now. There were a few aurors who had to be taken over to St. Mungo's and apart from a few injuries everything was fine. Unfortunately, the deatheaters had escaped. The letter ended in the usual way reminding Harry to be careful, to continue practising his Occlumency and to be on the watch for potential attacks when outside the house. Although the letter did not say that the Advance Guard were still doing their duty, i.e. following Harry around, Harry knew better. The other day he saw Sturgis Pudmore meandering his way through the bushes (obviously drunk), and Mrs. Figg, who always looked for chances to come up and talk to Harry. As he folded up the parchment again, a sigh escaped his lips.  
  
The summer at the Dursley's had been miserable so far. Even though he knew perfectly well why he had to stay there, he still wanted to get as far away as possible. Aunt Petunia stayed out of Harry's way as much as possible. The only time they spent together was when he helped her in the kitchen. She had continued to keep her mouth firmly shut as Harry bombarded her with questions about her promise to Dumbledore. Uncle Vernon's temper rose considerably whenever he saw him around. Last summer's incidents had made it crystal clear to him that the wizarding world contained highly cracked delinquents and he was not willing to continue taking part in it any longer. Dudley's attempts to taunt Harry always failed whenever Harry drew out his wand, which he made a point of keeping with him constantly, since Voldemort had shown himself at the Ministry of Magic.  
  
Voldemort had started on his attacks as if he had never gone fifteen years ago. Harry tried his very best to listen to as much of the muggle news as possible; sometimes by sitting on the stairs while the television blared on with the 6 o'clock news every evening, or sometimes by sitting outside the living room window, waving occasionally to Mrs. Figg, who went to the supermarket to buy more cat food.  
  
He felt at a complete loss. Although he kept in touch with his friends and members of the Order, he could not help them in any way. To his frustration, he was still underage to join and in more danger than any of the others. He was still number one on the lists of Voldemort's glory- seeking deatheaters, who wanted nothing more than to bring their master's enemy to him.  
  
Harry felt trapped. He felt trapped, the same has Sirius had felt for the last year of his life. Trapped like Sirius in 12, Grimmauld Place...NO....he mustn't think about Sirius. His eyes filled with tears for the umpteenth time as Sirius Black took over his mind...He blinked his tears back furiously. It was his own fault that Sirius was no longer here. No matter how many times Dumbledore or Lupin or anyone else told him otherwise, he still couldn't help but feel guilty.  
  
It had been over a week since anyone had contacted Harry. He understood that there wasn't supposed to be any unnecessary attention drawn towards Privet Drive. It was quite possible that one of Voldemort's spies could intercept the owls, if they were too frequent. It was best to keep a low profile.  
  
A week into August, Harry sat dolefully on his bed and busied himself by finishing an essay for charms while munching on a piece of the birthday cake the Weasleys had sent him. He used to have a great time eating the cake in front of Dudley while watching his face break out in cold sweat (Dudley was STILL on the diet, which was having no effect on his rapidly widening build), but even that had lost its appeal.  
  
After Harry finished his essay and began to get ready for bed, something tiny zoomed in through the window and smacked hard into the wall opposite. When he made his way over to the tiny ball of fluff, he realised it was Pidwidgeon, Ron's hyper owl. He had a small cut above his left wing and a nastily crumpled letter tied to his claw. Harry quickly scooped up Pig and placed him in Hedwig's cage. After placing a dish of water next to him, he went out of his room and crept slowly towards his aunt and uncle's bedroom. As they were downstairs watching T.V., Harry hoped to quietly borrow the first aid kit in order to treat Pig. He hadn't had many experiences with bandages as the Dursleys never bothered to treat him after Dudley's gang had recruited Harry as their punch bag before he began Hogwarts. Thankfully, he wasn't anymore but back then the school nurse had helped him though and she had told him how to clean the wound and bandage it.  
  
He wondered how Pig had got hurt in the first place. Perhaps an unexpected collision with a branch... After all, Pig flew so fast it was a wonder he didn't crash into things more often...  
  
Uncle Vernon's thundering footsteps brought Harry out of his reverie. He quickly picked up the box and dashed to his room hoping to go unnoticed. But Vernon Dursley caught him in the landing. After a quick glance at Harry's hand, which was clutching the white box, he grabbed Harry by the collar and hissed, "What the hell do you think you're doing boy?" Harry swallowed but managed a cool reply, "My friend's owl is hurt. He needs to be tended to."  
  
Vernon's moustache quivered with anger. He screamed, "DAMN BOY! Do you think I care about your ruddy owl? I don't care if he DIES in your room!" he tightened his grip on Harry's collar, which made it harder for him to breathe, "I don't ever want to see you sneaking around my house again, you hear?" Harry coughed in reply and pulled himself free from the iron grip. He then looked Uncle Vernon straight in the eyes and said in a low voice,  
  
"Don't you ever touch me again! My friends are waiting for my reply and if they don't get one soon, I'm pretty sure they'll think something's up". He folded his arms and smiled up serenely as Uncle Vernon's eyes widened slightly. Harry didn't need a pensive to see that Vernon was recalling his last encounter with Mad Eye Moody. Why, even Harry himself was replaying the scene at the station in which Moody issued a little threat about Harry's safekeeping to his uncle.  
  
Uncle Vernon grunted something in reply and then headed off.  
  
Harry slammed the door in his room, making Pig jump in fright. He patched up Pig as best as he could and allowed him to rest. He decided that Pig should rest for a couple of days and he can send Hedwig back to Ron with an answer. With that thought in his head, he turned around and picked up the letter from his bed. When he unrolled the parchment and began reading it, he noticed it was very much crumpled and even ripped at the corners. Harry frowned. It wasn't like Ron to send a letter in an abysmal state. Then his eyes snapped open as he remembered something similar happening to Hedwig last term at Hogwarts. He strode over to his window and peered out into the darkness. No one. He then shut the window and pulled the curtains.  
  
The owl had been intercepted.

**ok plz review and tell me honestly how that was....xx..ooh im sleepy ...zzzzzz**


	2. Familiar faces

**Disclaimer- I don't own any of the Harry potter series**

**A/N- thank you all for the reviews! Much appreciated! Enjoy! **

**Chapter 2:**

'_Hey Harry,_

_Hope you're doing alright. I would have owled earlier but Bill needed to use Pig to send a letter to Fleur (don't ask!). Anyways, Mum was wondering whether you'd like to come down here to The Burrow. I told you'd say yes but she thought it's be a bit more polite to give you a forewarning before we turn up at your doorstep. So Lupin and Moody are going to come down to your place on Sunday round 6pm. Just wait out in the front garden with your stuff O.K.? Hermione will be coming on Saturday. _

_Ron.'_

Harry paced his room. He stopped to open the window for Hedwig who was tapping on the glass, then resumed his tour of the room.

He knew that Voldemort now had this information, perhaps the information from all the other owls he received or sent in the last month. He knew that they would come to The Burrow to kill Harry and in the process kill the Weasleys too. There was no way he would let that happen to the ones who considered him as part of their family.

But how can he tell them not to come? The Dursely's' fireplace was not connected to the floo network... not to mention that he didn't have any floo powder. Sending an owl to warn anyone could also be dangerous. He kicked his bedpost in sheer frustration, and then sat on his bed with his head in his hands trying not to think of the throbbing pain in his right toe.

When Harry woke up on Sunday morning, his worry had mutated into panic. The usual thrill of visiting his best friends had been dampened by dread.... entering the kitchen to see them sprawled on the ground...every hand on the Weasley family clock pointing at 'Dead'...

Harry got up to get a drink of water to get rid of the nauseous feeling. As he descended the stairs, he wondered whether Dumbledore knew that he was invited to The Burrow. Maybe Mrs. Weasley had to ask him before she could invite him this time.... Wait a minute!!...DUMBLEDORE!

He dashed back to his room jumping two steps at a time and locked the door. Why didn't he think of it before? He closed his eyes and screwed up his face in concentration as he thought of Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of all time. He is the only one Voldemort feared. He was powerful and kind and open-minded...

There was a bang and a golden flash filled the room. A beautiful bird appeared in the middle of the room. His feathers were red and gold and there was an aura about him that radiated peace yet distinct authority.

Fawkes the phoenix perched on top of Hedwig's cage. He ruffled his feathers and began to preen the red and gold plumage.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed on his bed. He suddenly felt elated. There was still hope. He quickly took out a parchment and a quill and jotted down a quick note to his headmaster, describing the situation. After sealing it, he strode up to Fawkes and held the note for him to clamp in his beak. Fawkes looked up at Harry before taking off for the middle of the ceiling and disappeared in a whirlwind of gold and red.

All that was left for Harry to do now would be to just wait and hope for the best. He went down the stairs, realising suddenly how hungry he was.

He stared at the scene that met his eyes as he entered the kitchen; Dudley was cowering in the corner, the numerous folds of his skin wobbling in fright. Uncle Vernon's face was twitching so much in anger it looked like his moustache would fall off. Aunt Petunia on the other hand was probably the most composed of the three, despite the fact that her countenance bore the look of utmost contempt and disgust towards the visitor who she was deep in conversation with.

Dudley stole a peek and found Harry standing in front of him. He let out a whimper, causing the rest of the heads to turn in his direction.

Albus Dumbledore looked up at Harry with a brief smile and said,

"Good morning Harry. I would like to thank you for warning me about the deatheaters through Fawkes", he looked at the phoenix perched on his shoulder.

Harry was amazed. How did Dumbledore get here so quickly? He looked at the Dursely's who were highly perturbed by the morning guest. Aunt Petunia's gaze kept flickering over to the window, praying silently that no one would happen to look inside and find them amidst the company of a strangely dressed man.

Dumbledore whispered something softly to Fawkes. The phoenix then took off from his shoulder and disappeared.

"Right", Dumbledore said to the Dursely's, "if you would kindly allow me, I would like to take Harry with me."

Without waiting for an answer, he led Harry by the shoulder out of the kitchen and up to his room. There, he took out his wand and began packing Harry's belongings neatly into his trunk.

"Professor? Er... will Ron and his family be O.K.?"

"I assume they should be Harry", Dumbledore replied as he brought the textbooks zooming into the trunk, "I just sent Fawkes to The Burrow with a warning and will be heading over myself in a few moments", he brought The Firebolt into the trunk and then closed it. Then he picked up a pencil from the table, tapped it with his wand and muttered 'Portus',

"Now Harry. This portkey will take you to 12, Grimmauld Place. Lupin is there at the moment. I'll have the Weasleys and Hermione over as soon as I can."

Harry held on to Hedwig's cage (which still held Pig) and touched his trunk with one hand, while he took hold of the portkey with the other. He only had one thought in head as the familiar jerk behind his navel sent him spinning. He didn't want to go back to 12 Grimmauld Place.

¤

With a thud on the dusty floor, the kitchen of the Ancient and Noble House of Black came into focus. Harry got up, brushed the dust off his jeans and looked around. Here he was, back again at 12, Grimmauld Place, only this time Sirius wasn't here. With a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach and a lump forming in his throat, he closed his eyes; mind shrouded with remorse and guilt.

Lupin came into the kitchen, his face showing both worry and concern as he saw his best friend's son.

"Harry! Wh- what are you doing here? Is something wrong? Are you alright?"

Harry sighed. He hoped to God that everything was alright now. Then he began to tell Lupin what happened. Lupin frowned slightly but then began to rummage around for a drink, trying not to look too worried for Harry's sake. As he was opening two bottles of butterbeer, a couple of loud cracks were heard. Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Fred and George suddenly apparated into the kitchen, followed by Ron, Hermione and Ginny who had apparently taken a ladle as a portkey.

Lupin sighed and began to take out a whole crateful of butterbeers.

¤

As the butterbeers were being passed around, Harry thought it was best to get away from the crowd. The feelings of loneliness and self-consciousness began to creep up on him as everyone kept glancing over at him as they talked. Making an excuse about bringing his stuff upstairs, he slipped outside. He suddenly wished, to his surprise, that he were back at the Dursely's, away from all the attention. Away from the gratitude Mrs. Weasley and Hermione had shown him when they first arrived at the house. He didn't want them to thank him for warning them about the oncoming danger. It was because of him the danger arose in the first place. His existence had thrown his loved ones into a great risk and he decided that it must not happen again.

"Harry?" Ron had come upstairs with his trunk, "You O.K.?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. So what happened then at your place? Where are Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked as he let Pig outside to stretch his wings. Hermione and Ginny had come up now as well after leaving their trunks in the room they would be sleeping in. Harry was then told that after Fawke's warning, everyone packed up as much as they could until Dumbledore arrived. He turned one of the soup ladles into a portkey for the underage wizards and asked everyone else to apparate. However, they heard a lot of bangs just as they touched the portkey and so Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley stayed behind.

"Oh I do hope they're alright!" Hermione said.

"'Course they'll be fine! Dumbledore's there isn't he?" Ron said, "Oh yeah by the way Harry, how did you know that the death eaters will be coming?"

Harry told them about Pig's injury and how it led him to think that Ron's message was intercepted. Hermione frowned,

"But Harry, wouldn't they have read any of the other messages sent to you before?"

"They probably did but I don't think there was any relevant information for them then. Also, none of the owls before were injured. Maybe that's why I didn't know."

"Then how come Pig was hurt this time? I mean, it was a clear giveaway, wasn't it, that someone else had been reading your mail?" Ginny spoke this time.

They all lapsed into thoughtful silence. It seemed strange to Harry now that he really thought about it. When George came up to tell them that lunch was ready and that Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley had arrived, Harry decided to ask Dumbledore about it. However, George proceeded by telling them that Dumbledore was now at a meeting along with Lupin, Snape and a few foreign wizards.

¤

"There were about five or six of them Molly. Once they broke in, they began blasting the house apart until they saw Dumbledore. Couldn't get away though. We've handed them over to the ministry officials", Mr. Weasley explained to a worried Mrs. Weasley.

She tutted and shook her head,

"Ever since the dementors have left Azkaban to go to the dark side, there's no hold on the prisoners anymore."

Harry remembered reading a couple of weeks ago about the death eaters, captured in The Ministry of Magic in June, who had escaped out of the wizard prison once again.

"That breakout was the second one to happen twice in the same year! Fudge should be sacked." Mrs. Weasley's ranting told Harry that she was clearly unhappy with the Minister of Magic. Harry was confused,

"Fudge is like that? I thought he would have accepted by now that Voldemort's back?" Harry asked.

"No, no, it's not that", Mr. Weasley explained, "Fudge is busy trying to get his popularity back. Many people are unhappy with him at the moment because he did not believe in You- Know-Who's return. Fudge was stupid to think that he could keep the dementors on our side. Stupid. Utterly and completely. But I doubt there is anything he can do about the Azkaban situation now because all of the dementors are working on behalf of the dark side. If only he had listened! Well of course now he owls Dumbledore everyday for advice and is willing to do absolutely anything if it gets him his power back."

Fred grinned, "He'd probably tap-dance on his desk wearing a chicken suit if Dumbledore told him to."

Harry laughed along with the rest. He felt happy to be with those he loved and cared for again. They kept his mind off Sirius' death. In a way, Harry was surprised at the ease he began to feel at 12, Grimmauld Place. He now found an odd sense of comfort in being surrounded by his godfather's belongings. It gave him peace, yet it also gave him the will and encouragement to do more for the Order. He knew that there was something going on with the Order because Lupin and Dumbledore had been deeply absorbed at a meeting, which impelled them to miss the delicious celebratory lunch cooked by Mrs. Weasley.


End file.
